Big-name pianists
have regularly joined forces on disc
to perform a selection of these Mozart
works - Lupu and Perahia on Sony,
Cooper and Queffelec on Ottavo, and
Lortie and Mercier on Chandos, to
name just three pianistic pairings.
More often than not the couplings
have been Schubert works for four
hands.
As far as concerns
us here these works can be traced
like a leitmotif through three pairs
of lives: Mozart and his sister Maria
Anna (‘Nannerl’), Rosina and Joseph
Lhevinne (*), and their
pupils Misha and Cipa Dichter. Perhaps
the Dichters are not as well known
as the other pairings listed above,
but this set holds out the potential
of several advantages. Firstly, the
completeness of the set, as opposed
to one or two works in isolation;
secondly, perhaps a special intimacy
brought to the playing; and thirdly,
the presentation of a couple of curiosities.
[(*)
A recording of the Lhevinnes
playing K.448 is available on Naxos
Historical.
Josef
Lhevinne’s short but classic text
"Basic Principles of Pianoforte
Playing" (Pub. Dover, ISBN 0486228207)
is currently available from Amazon
at the ridiculous price of £2.70.]
I chose to listen
to these works in strict order of
K number. Anyone wanting a sense of
Mozart’s compositional development
within the four-handed medium using
this set should get used to juggling
the discs: the dexterity pays off
with a rewarding musical journey.
Mozart used the form for a variety
of reasons: to capture different aspects
of his musical personality, written
to be showpieces performed during
his youthful tours accompanied by
father Leopold and sister Nannerl,
as teaching pieces (!) and, not least,
as a medium to stretch his imagination.
The Sonata in
C major, K. 19d composed in London
in 1765 shows the youthful Mozart
working within the accepted notions
of the form, no doubt under Leopold’s
guidance, and, some have claimed,
editorship in terms of preserving
these early works for posterity. But
the Dichters’ performance of it announces
several important characteristics
of the work and set as a whole. Closely
though naturally recorded, the parts
are nicely set off against one another
and display interplay as a key ingredient.
Also immediately apparent, particularly
in the Menuetto-trio, is a rapt intimacy
that fits the quiet understated brilliance
of Mozart’s writing - a good sign
of things to come. The closing Rondo
sees skilled negotiation of tempo
changes; further revealing Mozart’s
already advanced assimilation of the
need for dramatic contrast within
the composition.
If from here on in
I pick out those aspects of each work
that particularly attracted attention,
it is not that the rest lacks merit,
because it doesn’t.
The Sonata in
B-flat major, K. 358 displays
again a real sense of equality in
the pianistic partnership. Tempi,
particularly for the charming rippling
middle adagio, are well chosen. They
speak of practise and experience,
but have not lost the fun behind the
writing. Sonata in D major, K.
381 is notable for the crispness
and clarity of the finger-work from
the start, and the sense of balance
the parts give the music internally.
The Fugue in G
minor, K.401 appears as a miniature
exercise, and one can well imagine
it being used for teaching purposes
to instruct variously in technique
and as an example of fugal structure.
Likewise, with the Adagio and Fugue
in C minor, K. 426. In the Dichters’
hands they spring full of life from
the page, even the more outwardly
serious passages, so that - whatever
their humble teaching origins might
have been - a sense of invention within
the confines of musical form is felt
... even to the edge of chaos in the
fugue of K. 426.
The remaining items
are all major works, and show Mozart’s
style at its mature zenith. Sonata
in D major, K. 448 is an intricate
piece full of imagination and brilliance.
The Dichters’ playing retains the
jewel-like clarity from earlier works
and remains ever alert to both structure
and idiom. I particularly enjoyed
the hushed, almost vocal quality of
the andante.
Sonata in F major,
K.497, the longest work included,
continues in many ways the path begun
with K. 448. The major difference
outwardly is the less showy nature
of the piece – but I recall Sir Clifford
Curzon saying how hearing another
pianist pull off a Mozart slow movement
really successfully inspired his admiration
more than any amount of showy fireworks.
The intricacy of the work is made
to sound disarmingly simple, which
of course is anything but the case
in reality. And what a flood of ideas
there is to contend with, order and
balance! Just one example: the nuance
the performance has is the way at
around 6’50" in the closing allegro
the line is effortlessly slimmed to
a simple run to lead into the most
understated yet totally apt ending
imaginable.
Sonata in C major,
K. 521 is given such fluency in
the Dichters’ playing that it immediately
draws you into the piece. Perhaps
more so than elsewhere the voices
of each piano remain distinct from
the other and this is fully brought
out in the playing. There are plenty
of opportunities to catch the intimate
side in dappled half-light, as these
alternate with brightly-lit sparkling
passages, and the sensitivity to inner
dynamism is absolutely as it should
be. It’s worth getting the set for
the sonatas K. 448, 497 and/or 521
alone.
Now to the curiosities
– the arrangements by Busoni and Grieg.
Quite what prompted Grieg to keep
Mozart’s sonata in C major, K.545,
intact, assign it to one piano, and
write a whole other part to fit alongside,
is not known. The effect though is
strange, as the work moves gradually
from something distinctly Mozartian
to abstract Norwegian impressionism.
Busoni, for his part, creates a serious
virtuoso display from Mozart’s clockwork
composition that is dispatched with
suitable precision and flair by the
Dichters.
This goes on my ‘Discs
of the Year’ list without hesitation.
Seminal listening in every respect.
Evan Dickerson
Misha and Cipa Dichter (piano) 
